Bullworth Rising 2
by INMH
Summary: Crack, Sequel to Bullworth Rising. Zombrex doesn't pay for itself you know.


Bullworth Rising 2

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: Humor/Adventure  
>Summary: Crack, Sequel to Bullworth Rising. Zombrex doesn't pay for itself you know.<br>Author's Note: Tee-hee… I actually started writing this BEFORE I started Bullworth Rising. Then I thought I might be able to squeeze a prequel out first, thereby making that the original and THIS a sequel. Me and my thought-process, really.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bully or Dead Rising. Dead Rising belongs to Capcom, and Bully belongs to Rockstar games.

()()

"Jimmy, don't. I'm begging you. Just… Just don't. It's insane. You will _die_, and you will die painfully."

Jimmy strapped on his helmet and adjusted it slightly. "Those all your protests, Petey?" Petey sighed and nodded dejectedly. He wasn't stupid; he knew Jimmy was still going to do it. "Think of it this way, Petey: This only has a slightly stronger risk than that of climbing into the Hole with Russell."

Petey gaped at him. "This is _way_ more dangerous than that, you idiot!" He squawked in disbelief. This was, Jimmy noticed with some satisfaction, the first time that Petey had ever had the balls to call Jimmy an idiot to his face. "Zoe, back me up here! You want your boyfriend to die young?"

Zoe, kneeling at the head of the bike and doing something to the wheel, snorted and shook her head. "When have _I_ ever convinced him not to do something that he wanted to do?"

"When have you ever _tried?_" Petey retorted sharply.

"Ah, but Zombrex doesn't pay for itself, does it Petey?" Gary came out of nowhere and slammed his hands down on Petey's shoulders. Jimmy was surprised and Petey was horrified to see that Gary had suited up as well; he was in red, Jimmy was in blue. "And I don't know what we'd do if our favorite little Femmeboy turned into a zombie!"

On the other side of the garage was a man in yellow, also working on his bike. Seated atop said bike was a little blonde girl covered from head to toe in pink, presumably his daughter. "Daddy, what's a femmeboy?" Jimmy snort-coughed loudly and slapped the visor of the helmet down over his face. The girl's father gave the four a dry almost-warning look before shaking his head and muttering something back to her.

"Now what are _you_ doing?" Petey cried out in disbelief. Gary grinned.

"Apparently, the original red rider had an unfortunate accident in the locker room. I don't know- Something to do with a bag of marbles and an inch of itching powder covering the floor. And then there might have been some sort of blunt-force trauma when he stumbled away and accidentally hit his head on the fire extinguisher. That was on the floor. Away from it's case. Which was in the hall."

"Not that you would know anything about any of that, right?" Zoe remarked wryly.

"Naturally!"

"I guess this doubles our chances, then." Jimmy said with a slightly more positive inflection to his voice.

"That it does!" Gary agreed.

"You're off your meds!"

"He probably is," Zoe agreed, straightening up and stepping away from the wheel. "But he's expending that excess psycho-energy into something productive, so I don't think we can complain too much."

"_Watch me!_"

Jimmy climbed onto the bike and turned it on, revving the engine experimentally as Gary climbed onto his own and did the same. "I think we're good to go," He said. "Be back soon babe, Petey."

"We're gonna smash ourselves some zombies!" Gary adopted an over-exaggerated cowboy's drawl. "Yee-ha!" And with that, they took off down the dark hallway to the platform that would lift them up into the arena, closely followed after by the yellow rider. His daughter was standing with a PA-looking sort of guy, and Zoe grabbed Petey's arm and pulled him towards them.

"Come on, Pete, they'll be fine." She looked down at the girl. "Hey kiddo- Your dad's got one mean ride. He good at this?"

Meanwhile, Jimmy and Gary were almost totally surrounded by zombies but from behind. Their snarling visages and glinting red eyes peered out from behind the chain link fence keeping them away. They looked pissed.

They were only two of four riders, the other two being the yellow guy they'd seen out back and a green guy who must have been there for a while. "Hey buddy," The green suited rider said, speaking up to be heard over the growling. "I heard you lost your wife in Vegas." His tone was sympathetic, but quickly changed. "Guess you _suck_ at killing zombies or she'd still be alive!" He let out a wild laugh as though it was the funniest damn thing he'd ever heard.

Jimmy and Gary didn't speak, but the gazes they exchanged said it clearly:

_What a **douchebag. **_

"Hope you're better at it, pal," Gary called amiably, eyes still fixated on the zombies across from him. "'Cause you look like a little bitch that'll get your head cracked open _damn_ easy."

The green rider glared at him. "Fuck you."

"And I will _see_ you in _hell!_" Gary called back enthusiastically.

Jimmy saw the yellow rider smirk.

And then the booming voice of the announcer came echoing down.

"_Zombies took our Willamette! They took our Las Vegas! But tonight, America, we're going to get a little payback!_" The panel above them slid away, and they felt the platform rising up and into the stadium where thousands of people in the stands gave wild, booming cheers. "_Welcome everyone to Fortune City, Nevada, America's Entertainment playground!_" Fireworks shot up around the edge of the rounded arena.

"_And now it's time for America's most dangerous game show! It's time for: TERROR IS REALITY!_"

The crowd went wild, and Jimmy revved the motorcycle.

"You ready?" He shouted to Gary.

"More than I'll ever be, Jimmy-boy!"

The green light went on, and Jimmy grinned.

Time to kick some zombie ass.

-End

Yeah, I know Tyrone King was supposed to do some talking, but it really wasn't that important. I didn't want to drag it on just for the sake of all of the game dialogue.


End file.
